


Why Does My Heart Feel so Bad?

by Aragarna



Category: White Collar
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Feelings, Friendship, Gen, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 00:55:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3999787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aragarna/pseuds/Aragarna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal isn't dead after all, and his return to New York creates in Peter a complex mix of relief and pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Does My Heart Feel so Bad?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my necessary post-finale therapeutic fic. It took me a while to put down in words properly my feelings about it all, and I felt I needed this earnest conversation to get back to my happy place, and my happy ending. After this, I feel a lot more confident that a happy ending is actually possible, and that the shenanigans of Caffrey and Burke (or Burke and Caffrey) will continue happily ever after.
> 
> Title from the eponym song by Moby.

 

At the beginning, it was mostly a big, giant relief. A sudden lifting of the burden that had weighed on Peter for so long that he had forgotten the weight was there. Or more precisely, he had learned to live with it. The weight of guilt. The guilt of not having been able to protect his friend and partner, guilt of failure, guilt of loss.

But if Neal didn’t die, he had nothing to feel guilty about. It was all fake, it didn’t actually happen.

If you had asked him, before, how he would react if Neal were to fake his death, Peter would have said that he’d likely be very angry. He sure wouldn’t have expected being so happy that it was all a con. And yet, the minute he put the pieces of the puzzle together, he ran to Paris, to see with his own eyes the friend he thought he had lost forever. Later, back in New York, Peter just couldn’t help being excited that Neal would come back to the city.

Until Neal actually came back.

It was a floating feeling, a knot in his stomach. Peter was happy to have Neal back, and yet, there was this nagging feeling telling him that it was all very wrong. It was hard to explain, but when Elizabeth, for the first time, had put their son into Neal Caffrey’s arms, Peter had felt an uneasiness that he wasn’t able to shake off, until Neal had left and Peter got his son back, safe in his own arms.

Peter didn’t want to examine this feeling too much and did his best to ignore it. He wanted to be happy. He wanted to enjoy Neal’s presence. He wanted things to get back to normal. But could they, really?

_You’re the only one I trust._

_I have a life here._

_Family is the ones who’ve been there when you needed them._

_You’re my best friend._

And yet.

Peter had always held onto the thought that Neal could change. That he would eventually become a good person. But he wasn’t so sure anymore.

_Wake up, Petey, you’re not his partner, you’re his mark._

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat. That couldn’t be. He refused to accept it.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

 

  
“Hon?” Elizabeth called, interrupting his reverie. “I just got Mozzie, he’s okay for a brunch on Sunday. Does that work for Neal, too?”

Peter bit his lip. “I haven’t called him. I’m sorry, El, it slipped my mind.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “You, Peter Burke, forgot about Neal Caffrey?”

Peter shot her an apologetic smile and went back to the file he was pretending to be reading . “I’ll call him first thing tomorrow.”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and looked intensely at Peter. He tried to avoid her gaze, but he could feel her laser piercing through his soul. She slowly walked to him and sat by his side on the sofa.

“What is it?” she asked, softly.

Peter shrugged it off. “Nothing.”

“Hon, I can see there’s something wrong. Did Neal do something?”

Peter couldn’t restrain a bitter snort. “You mean apart from letting us believe he was _dead_? No, he did nothing wrong.” Peter himself was surprised by the harshness of his tone.

Elizabeth gently took his hand between hers. Without a word, she encouraged him to go on, and Peter finally opened up about the feelings that had been nagging him for days, and which he had tried to hold back as best as he could.  
                                              
“It’s hard to explain. I feel like… I think I’m angry but I don’t want to be. I’m so relieved that Neal isn’t dead, and I’m glad that he’s back in New York. At least, I thought I was. I don’t know, El, I’m lost. Do you think Philip was right? That I was his mark? That it was just a very long con?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “You can’t possibly think this.”

“No, not really,” Peter admitted. “It’s just… I feel like something broke in me. I _want_ us to be back to what we had before, or what I thought we had, but I’m not sure we can. I don’t even know where we stand. I thought he wanted a life here, with us. That he was done running. I believed him. I trusted him.  And yet he did run. He left everything and everyone behind.”

“He did this to protect us, Peter.”

“But he could have told us, instead of letting us…” Peter swallowed. “Believe he was dead, that I had failed. That it was my fault…”

“It is Neal’s own tunnel vision. He does all the wrong things with the best intention. But he did come back. That means something.”

Peter hid his face in his hands. “I know. I don’t know. It’s so complicated…”

Elizabeth gently took his hands and forced him to look at her. “Did you ever tell Neal all this? How you felt, when he died?”

Peter shrugged. “No, I didn’t. There’s no point.”

“I think there is. He needs to understand. And you need to get it out, obviously,” Elizabeth said softly. “You should also tell him how you feel, _now_.”

“What for? It won’t do any good. I’m afraid I’ll make it worse. I don’t know if we can fix this, anyway.”

Elizabeth pressed Peter’s hand and forced him to look at her. “But you’d want to.”

“Yes, of course,” Peter urged. “But I…”

Elizabeth cut him off. “Then you _have_ to talk to Neal. Not saying anything and dwelling on it instead won’t get you anywhere. Talk to him. Tell him how you feel, and let him tell you his side of the story.”

Peter sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”

Elizabeth looked at Peter expectantly.

“You mean, like, now?” Peter asked, feeling his anxiety rise.

Elizabeth nodded. “The sooner, the better.”

“What if…” What if it breaks everything? What if Neal doesn’t understand? “I need to think about it,” Peter said finally.

Elizabeth tilted her head and locked her gaze in his. “From the look of it, you’ve been thinking about it quite a lot already.”

She bent over to kiss him encouragingly. Peter sighed.

“I guess I could stop by, with a bottle of wine and a couple of beers,” he agreed reluctantly.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

 

His heart was beating so hard against his ribcage as he climbed the stairs to Wednesday that he was surprised that Neal  wasn’t on the threshold, alerted by the sound of his pulse. Wiping his sweaty palms on his pants, Peter took a deep breath and knocked.

The door cautiously opened, just enough for Neal to glance through. He couldn’t hide a look of surprise seeing Peter at his door.

“Peter,” he said, stepping aside to let his friend in. “How do you know where I live?”

Peter shot Neal a cocky smile.

“Of course, you know where I live.”

Peter couldn’t help a glance around. He didn’t mean to pry, but old habits are hard to shake. The place was a lot more richly furnished than what you’d expect given the building and the neighborhood. But of course, you shouldn’t expect Mozzie to live anything but richly, even in his safe houses.

Peter was standing awkwardly in the middle of what appeared to be the living room, not really sure on how to proceed now. He was looking sideways at Neal. The new Neal. No more suits, no more hats. Neal was now a lower-key, more modern jeans-t-shirt man. Blending in instead of standing out. He had cut his hair very short, which changed him a lot. Even the way he was handling himself seemed different to Peter.

“You’re invited for a brunch on Sunday,” he said abruptly to break the awkward silence that was settling between them. “You and Mozzie.”

“Sounds great,” Neal nodded. Peter was feeling the weight of his gaze on him.

“Is everything okay, Peter?” Neal asked.

Peter startled. “Yes, yes. Everything’s fine.”

“So, to what do I owe the honor of this impromptu visit? Surely, you didn’t come all the way from Brooklyn just to tell me to come over.”

Peter took a deep breath. “We need to talk,” he said, taking the bottle of wine out of the bag and handing it to Neal.

Neal took the bottle and set it on the small coffee table, inviting Peter to sit on the sofa. He went to retrieve a glass and a corkscrew in the kitchen and sat opposite to Peter on an old armchair. Peter sat down, feeling terribly uneasy, and opened his beer. Neal took his time to open the bottle and pour himself a glass of wine.

Peter took a short sip from his beer, and set it back on the table.

“I’m hurting, Neal,” He started in a low voice. “I have so many conflicted feelings, and I feel like I’m going to implode. I don’t want to be mad at you. I want to just be happy that you’re back, that you’re not dead. But I…” Peter looked up briefly at Neal. “I still can’t make peace with it.”

“I feel betrayed,” Peter continued, staring at his bottle on the table. “After everything I’ve done for you. The risks I’ve taken, trying to protect you. The blows I took. Damn, I’ve even turned down a position in DC for you. And that was okay, because I thought you were worth it. I thought we were a family. I thought you trusted me to be there for you, and I wanted to be there for you. I thought we were going somewhere…”

“I’m sorry I let you down,” Neal said.

“I don’t understand you. I thought you didn’t want to run anymore. And that you had a life here. Those are your words. And I believed you. I’ve always believed in you. I thought you wanted to change, and I wanted to believe you could. But you keep going back to…”

Peter held back his words, sending Neal an uncertain look.

“My criminal ways?” Neal finished for him.

“I think… I think I’m disappointed. Disappointed that you didn’t trust me. Disappointed that I never managed to gain your trust. And I feel that, maybe, we’ll never be able to trust each other.  You said I was the one person you trusted, but you don’t. I really wanted to trust you, Neal. I did. But you’ve made it very hard. And I’m tired of it. I’m not your handler anymore. I’m just your friend. And this is not what friendship is supposed to be. We should trust each other. I don’t want to have to worry every morning when I wake up that maybe you’ve disappeared, that maybe you’re gonna break our hearts again. Most of all, I want to believe this wasn’t all for nothing.”

“It was not,” Neal said.

Peter swallowed, his gaze lost in the painful memories of the past year. “How could you do this to me? To us?” he said suddenly looking intensely at Neal. “Do you have any idea how painful it was, to think you were dead? To see you lying on a table in the morgue? For months, I beat myself up because I thought I had failed. Failed to protect you, as your partner, as your friend. I couldn’t forgive myself. And now I realize, this was not my fault. You planned all this. It was all a con.”

“I’m sorry,” Neal said again, in a whisper.

Peter was feeling the tears rising at the corner of his eyes. He took a sip of his beer and then slowly breathed out to steady his heart.

“You know,” he said in a shaky voice.  “When I learned we were pregnant, I wanted you to be our baby’s godfather. By the time he’d arrived, you’d have finished your sentence, one way or another. I was hoping you’d stay, of course. And I would have asked you to be his godfather…”

“I was seeing us as a family,” Peter was going on, barely containing his pain. “And part of me even wonders if that would have been a good idea anyway. I’m a father now. I have someone else to think of. Neal is just a little kid. He’s all innocent and trusting. If you become part of his life, he’ll trust you. That’s what kids do. But I won’t let you break his heart.”

The jingling of Neal’s glass on the table as the young man put it down with a shaky hand startled Peter. He looked up at his friend, who was pale as chalk.

“I’ve screwed it all up,” Neal said in a desperate whisper.

His visible distress was painful to see. Peter wanted to reach out and give him a comforting pat on the shoulder, but something was still holding him back. He remained silent.

“I’m sorry,” Neal said after a while. “I had no right to come back. I just wanted you to know that I wasn’t dead. But if you’d rather have me leave, I’ll just leave.”

Peter almost jumped from his seat. “No! No, of course not. That’s not what I meant. I just got you back, I don’t want to lose you again.”

Neal looked confused. “Then what?”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, I’m just rambling. I needed to get all those things out, and for you to understand how I feel.” He leaned back on the sofa and passed a tired hand over his face. “I’m just not sure where we stand anymore. I need to know. I want to know if we can fix it. Or, if we can’t.”

Peter was looking at Neal, both anxious and hopeful. Peter wasn’t sure how to interpret it. It seemed so clear in his head. But he wasn’t sure his words were conveying all his conflicted thoughts properly.

“As your handler, it was my duty to keep watch on you and make sure you’d stay on the line. But I’m not your handler anymore. You don’t have to pretend to be playing good. You can do what you want with your life. You’ve earned it. However, I do hope I’m still your friend, and that I’ve earned the right to know. I thought you wanted to change, to go straight. Stay here and make a life here. But if that’s not what you want, I won’t hold you back. As much as I’d want to, I don’t have the right. I’ll respect your choice, whatever that is.”

Neal was staring at Peter with wild eyes, looking vaguely terrified. He stood up, his demeanor quite stiff, and started pacing around the small living room.

“I know that my words probably don’t mean much to you anymore,” he said. “But Peter, please, you have to believe me. Everything I’ve said to you was true. I meant it when I said you were my best friend. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t know why I’m doing this. I seem to be doomed to screw up all the good things that happen to me.”

Neal looked away, at an invisible point beyond the window. “I hope you’ll be able to forgive me, one day. I realize what I’ve done, and I feel horrible about it, now. It’s been months, actually. I still had some sort of contact with New York, and I heard that Elizabeth gave birth to a beautiful baby boy named Neal. The fact that you named him after me… It means more to me than you can imagine. And it hurt. Like a punch in the gut. It made me realize what we had, what we were, what I had lost. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you, and everyone. All I wanted was to protect you, but I didn’t think about the effect my disappearance would have on all of you. I think… I think I underestimated how much I meant to you. And how much you all meant to me.”

He put his head in his hands. “I hate myself,” he continued, his voice hoarse. “I try to do things right, but I keep failing. I don’t know how to do things right. I keep thinking like a criminal. That’s all I know. I don’t know any other way.”

He suddenly turned back to face Peter. “I don’t want to be that kind of guy anymore. I hate it. I hate the fact that I keep hurting the people I love. My family…”

Peter could feel his heart giving in. He simply couldn’t bear seeing Neal so distressed. He knew the young man well enough to see he was being honest. Just like he was all those previous times he had opened up to him. Peter shouldn’t ever have doubted it. He knew Neal was sincerely sorry, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep a grudge for very long. Not to Neal. Peter couldn’t explain why, but he was seeing something in Neal that he refused to give up.

He stood up to stand next to Neal. “But you can change that,” he said softly.

Neal shook his head. “I thought I could. I’m not so sure anymore.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It wasn’t all for nothing, though, believe me. I can’t even _think_ about doing something illegal without hearing your disapproving voice.”

“See, so you have changed,” Peter grinned.

Neal shot Peter a small smile. “All that time in Europe, I didn’t do anything illegal. Not _seriously_ illegal,” he corrected as Peter raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I swear, I even paid for my train ticket from Paris to Amsterdam.”

Peter couldn’t help a chuckle. “That’s good, I’m proud of you.”

At those words, Neal shivered slightly. He lowered his head and remained silent for a while, sipping his wine slowly.

“Will you forgive me?” he asked, tentative.

Peter clenched his jaw. Of course he would. Until the next time…

Neal must have felt his hesitation. “I won’t let you down again, Peter, I swear. You have to believe me.”

Peter sighed. He had heard that one before. Way too many times. He wasn’t sure he’d really trust completely whatever Neal could say to make him feel better. He still had to try. They both had to. Give themselves a second chance, all in good faith.

“I want to, Neal.”

“I’ve never meant to hurt you. I thought it was the thing to do. I think I got scared,” Neal said in a whisper. “Scared that my family would be taken away from me, again. Like my mother, like Kate. So, instead, I sabotaged it. It was easier to cut the ties myself than wait for someone to hurt one of you.”

Peter put a hand on Neal’s shoulder. He could feel the tension running through the muscle. He squeezed gently.

“That’s the price of having a family,” he said. “You fear for them, every day. But you love them, and you fight for them.”

“I thought I was.”

“But having a family means including them, not excluding them. It’s a two-way relationship. In a family, we don’t have secrets. We share our fears and burdens. This is what a family is for. This is what a family is. But we need to be able to trust each other, to be a family. Family is what makes us better.”

Peter took a last sip of his beer as he let his words sink in.

“Family is what helps us change, too,” he went on. “I am who I am because of the people in my life. But you have to let them in. You can’t just change on your own. It’s a chance you have to take. If you want me to help you become a better person, you have to let me help you.”

Neal flinched. He looked up at Peter, uncertain. He swallowed hard. “You’d let me come back?”

“If that’s what you want. My door will always be open for you. And you can start with Sunday’s brunch.”

“I know you likely don’t have much faith in me anymore. And I know this is my fault. But if there was the slightest chance that, at least, you could forgive me, and that maybe we could work our way back to our partnership, I’d do anything for it.”

“I still want to believe in us,” Peter said after a short silence. “To be honest, after everything we’ve been through together, giving up would just be too hard. I know you won’t change overnight. I understand that you have your issues. Life hasn’t been easy on you. Your problem isn’t so much that you think like a criminal as the fact that you think you can solve things on your own and get away with it. But as long as you keep trying, I’ll keep faith.”

Neal smiled and seemed to relax. He nodded toward Peter’s empty bottle. “Another beer?”

Peter winced and looked at his watch. “I better go. I’m on morning shifts.”

As Neal raised an inquiring eyebrow, Peter explained. “Little Neal still occasionally wakes up at night. As El is more of a night owl and I’m an early riser, she usually does the late nights and I do the early mornings.”

Neal shook his head, a mocking grin brushing his lips.

“What?” Peter asked.

“Just picturing you as a dad…” Neal said.

Peter shrugged. “I’m doing fine.”

“I don’t doubt it for a second.”

Peter got up, and Neal walked him to the door. On the threshold, Peter turned around.

“Will you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Promise me that you’ll at least try to trust me. And that you won’t hide anything from me anymore.”

Neal nodded firmly. “No more secrets. That’s a promise.”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

 

Peter slid under the covers and snuggled against Elizabeth.

“How did it go?” she asked.

Peter kissed her at the small of her neck. “Well, he’s still coming on Sunday. So I suppose it went well enough.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you two managed to work things out.”

“It’ll take some time for everything to heal, but I do feel better. And Neal probably does, too. I guess we both needed that conversation.”

“You gave him another chance?”

“I did.”

“I knew you would.”

“You did?”

“I know you, Hon. And I love you for it.”

“You’re a smart woman, and I’m a lucky man...” Peter whispered, before closing his eyes.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

 

  
At 6 a.m. that Sunday, a half-awake Peter was feeding his early bird of a son when the doorbell rang. Setting the bottle aside, Peter got up to answer the door, wondering who the hell could be up so early on a Sunday morning.

Holding Neal in one arm, he opened the door with his free hand and was surprised to see Neal Caffrey standing on his doorstep.

“Neal?”

The young man shot him a smile. “Can I come in?”

“You do understand the principle of brunch, do you?” Peter stepped aside to let Neal in. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, I just needed to talk to you.”

“And it couldn’t wait a few hours?”

“I couldn’t sleep… You said you were on morning shift, so I thought you’d be awake.”

“I am…”

Peter invited Neal to sit on the sofa and then sat in the recliner. “So, what is it?” he asked, grabbing the baby bottle to continue feeding Little Neal.

“I’ve been thinking,” Neal said. “I want to get my real name back.”

Peter looked up at Neal. It took him a moment to adjust. “Neal Bennett?”

“Yes.”

That Neal would want to take back his father’s name was rather unexpected.

“Why?”

“I need to start fresh. At first, I thought about officially coming back as Neal Caffrey.”

“Would that be a good idea?”

“I was willing to take the chance. I did my part for the FBI, after all, so I’m good, right?”

Peter nodded. “Yes, I made sure that you died a free man. I did all the paperwork,” he said, trying not to think back on those moments. “Your case is definitely closed.”

“I could have reasonably argued that I feared for my life and had to disappear.”

“I guess you could,” Peter agreed. “I doubt anyone would look too much into it anyway. We have enough open cases to work on without opening a closed one. And I can always vouch for you, if need be.”

“Peter, I wouldn’t ask you…”

“It would just be stating the truth. I can testify to your good work for us, and the danger it put you in with regards to the criminals you infiltrated for us.”

“The problem is that I’d still be Neal Caffrey, international forger and thief. Allegedly,” Neal quickly added with a grin. “Point is, this name has too much baggage attached to it. It’d attract too much attention, and with my records and reputation, it’d probably be virtually impossible to find a job.”

“A job?”

“Yes, a legitimate job. Here, in New York. That’s what normal people do to earn a living, I’ve been told. So I was thinking about trying that…”

Peter felt a fuzzy feeling grow inside his chest. “What kind of job?”

“I could try something in the arts. Art renovation maybe?”

“I was more picturing you in some security consulting firm, or something…”

“Not if I can’t use my credits as Neal Caffrey.”

Peter smiled. “You seem to have thought this through.”

“I have. No more lies, no more secrets. I’m Neal Bennett.”

Neal – the young one – wriggled in his arms. He was done with his bottle. Peter took him to his high chair and slid it next to the kitchen island.

“Breakfast?” he asked the other Neal.

Neal walked to them. “Sure.”

Peter made some eggs for Neal and retrieved his box of cereal for himself.

“No sheriff badge in this one?” Neal asked.

Peter chuckled. “No, they don’t make those anymore.”

Neal suddenly turned serious. “Thank you, Peter, for not giving up on me.”

Peter nodded. “Likewise.”

 

 

 The End.

 

 

 


End file.
